Again, not that much that I found compelling in this issue, although the photos of some of the personalities involved in the Egyptian revolution were quite arresting. The article about refugee applicants (in the States I guess they are referred to as asylum applicants) was notable for its honesty - I think if someone like my mother, who thinks most refugee claimants are likely liars trying to play the system, were to read it she would think that it vindicated her opinion quite well. On the other hand, as the writer observes towards the end, their lives are usually frought with perils at home, and the main reason that they lie to embellish their horror stories is because such drama is expected of them. Those of us lucky enough to be born into a free society (and many of us among those even luckier, to be born in a position of privilege) are not really qualified to judge the degree of wretchedness of other people's lives that is required for refugee admission into this country (or the USA), however.
One thing I must mention, since it is so exceedingly rare in the New Yorker: they spelled Steve Carell's surname wrong in the review of "Crazy, Stupid, Love" in the Movie Review section (sorry, The Current Cinema). Not once like a typo, but three times, including the caption under the illustration. Shocking lack of attention to detail, New Yorker!!
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